


cobwebs and storagerooms

by Sexycanofsoup



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexycanofsoup/pseuds/Sexycanofsoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all it takes to get two angsty boys to crack is to lock 'em up in a dirty old room for a while. The big stupid homo crushes tend to reveal themselves without much effort after that.<br/>A story of cleaning, confessions, and awkward blushing boys who know how to use their fists better than their words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cobwebs and storagerooms

 

Cobwebs and Storagerooms:

_Jean:_

Denying his love for Eren was exhausting. He was pretty good about it most of the time. So good that he was even half convinced he still hated the guy. But sometimes, like the moment unfolding now, Eren did something so annoyingly lovable, that Jean’s denials became powerless against his flood of feelings.

“Bastard…” Jean hissed, staring down at a sleeping Eren. Even in his sleep the boy looked angry. His forehead creased, and his eyes tightly shut. Jean couldn’t look away even though he knew he should. Though the dorm was empty now, he knew that anyone could walk in at any time, and he had no good excuse ready for why he appeared to be staring down at Eren with a lovesick expression on his face.

He kept telling himself he’d move in a minute--that he’d wake the boy up. But he couldn’t. The opportunity was too great. Because he never allowed himself to look at Eren. Well...sometimes he did. But they were always just side glances or angry death glares. He knew that he couldn’t allow himself more without revealing too much. Because it had to be a secret. Eren hated him, and he was supposed to hate Eren. That was the deal. It was a situation he was used to, could fall into easier than breathing air. But it still hurt. Because even though he did feel the urge to yell at Eren a lot, he also had other urges--gentler ones. Like right now he was sorely tempted to lift his hand and run it through Eren’s hair. He’d been struck by the urge ever since that one day in training when he’d grabbed hold of Eren to wrestle him to the ground--only he’d grabbed his hair, and it had been far softer than he’d imagined. He’d always thought that everything about Eren had to be hard; gruff. But now Jean was realizing that wasn’t the truth. Eren could be gentle. Jean had seen it plenty of times. Had seen the way the boy pulled Armin close when the small blonde was upset. Saw the way he smiled at Mikasa when he knew he’d done something crappy. He could be gentle--just not to Jean. And Jean accepted that...mostly. He knew things wouldn’t be different, but...that still didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes _want_ anyway.

Jean’s eyes trailed over Eren’s face and settled on his mouth. That pair of lips took up way too much of his brain space, he knew, but he could do nothing to stop it. They were just so...red. It was like they were begging to be touched. If he could just…

Jean’s eyes widened when he found his hand, of its own accord, reaching up toward Eren’s face. That was bad. He knew it was. And yet… Jean felt horror shoot up his spine when he realized he wasn’t going to stop. He was actually going to do it. He would touch Eren in a way that had nothing to do with trying to inflict as much bodily harm as possible onto the boy--which was definitely a first.

But aside from the fear, his most prominent emotion was an irrepressible mounting excitement. He would finally know. He would finally.

Eren’s mouth twitched, and Jean leapt back as though someone had just set fire to his hair. With his heart pounding wildly he watched as Eren’s forehead crunched still farther, and then the boy mumbled, “...all of them. Gonna kill you all. Gonna…” he mumbled a bit more, but it wasn’t intelligible, and then he fell silent.

The shock of his fear now left Jean with the strange urge to giggle. He clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle the urge. It appeared that Eren was dreaming of killing Titans, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. The boy was annoying as hell, but Jean couldn’t’ deny that he wasn’t dedicated to his dreams. That was more than he could say for a lot of people.

Apparently Eren wasn’t done freaking Jean out because at that moment he raised his hand and pushed it under his head, rolling onto his side and mumbling more unintelligible things.

Jean nearly choked on his own spit. Now he could add “nearly giving me a heart attack” to his list of “Things Eren must die for.” But that could all wait, because right now his entire mind was taken up by the fact that Eren, in his motion, had caused his shirt to ride up, and now Jean was being treated to an unparalleled view of Eren’s iron clad abs.

Jean felt his breathing quicken. Nice abs weren’t in short order here. All the soldiers had them. Even Armin. But...but there was something about Eren’s that just… Jean bit his lip. He’d long tried to figure out what it was about the boy in front of him that drew his attention so much. The boy was beautiful, sure, but there were a lot of beautiful soldiers around him. And it couldn’t have been the boy’s personality, because that was as rough as they came… He didn’t know _what_ it was, but he did know that Eren drove him crazy, and it was only getting worse.

Jean watched Eren’s chest rise and fall and the way the muscles tightened and released. He was breathing too fast. It was painfully obvious. And he hated that. He hated his weakness. He hated that Eren could unravel him by doing _nothing_. And the worst part of all this was that jean was alone in it. Eren had never made any indication that what he felt for Jean was anything other than annoyance.

It made him angry. It made him want to climb up and straddle Eren and demand that the boy acknowledge him. But he couldn’t do that, and he couldn’t continue to stand here either, or he’d do something he’d regret. So instead he reached forward and grabbed Eren’s elbow (the least sexual place he could think of) and gave it a shake--making sure the gesture was as rough as he could make it without dislocating the boy’s arm.

“Oi! Get up idiot!”

Eren began to stir. “No...don’t wanna…just five more minutes, mom, mmm k?” and then he buried his head deeper into the pillow.

Once more Jean wasn’t sure of the appropriate reaction. Should he be angry at being accused of being a dead woman in her thirties, or...charmed?”

Jean looked at the way Eren’s face was partially hidden and the way his hair stood up on the side and knew the answer to that question. He groaned at his stupidity, but he couldn’t lose his resolve. He slapped at Eren’s shoulder. “I said get up, moron. I’m not cleaning the damn storage room by myself.”

And then Eren confirmed himself to be a class A weirdo, because instead of rolling _away_ from the onslaught, he rolled _toward_ Jean. Eren’s head bumped against Jean’s thigh where it was pressed against the edge of the bed. Jean froze from where he had been bending over Eren. The pressure of the boy’s face against him was almost drowned out by the heat that flooded his body then.

“Oi! E-Eren! Wake up already! What are you--”

“Warm…” the boy mumbled, nuzzling his face against Jean’s leg.

Jean was frozen. He didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, Jean had no desire to move from what was the first time Eren had voluntarily touched him. But on the other...this was the first time Eren was voluntarily touching him. And that was scary as hell.

Jean’s body decided to react instinctively, and leapt back, causing Eren, who had been leaning against jean right up against the bed, to fall off. The Titan shifter hit the floor with a loud bang. This did a better job at waking the boy up than Jean could have ever done.

“Shit!” the boy cried, his eyes springing open. They shot around in confusion. Jean could see the boy searching for the source of why his happy warm world had suddenly changed to one of coldness and pain. And then his eyes settled on Jean, and the confusion was no more.

“You!” he shouted, springing to his feet, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jean realized that he had apparently forgotten how to speak English. And at the worst possible moment. He’d cried out as he watched Eren hit the ground, but his reflexes had been too slow to catch him, and now Eren was looking at him like he was the scum of the earth. Well, more scum of the earth than usual.

“Why the hell couldn’t you wake me up normally?”

Jean’s indignation at that statement allowed him to regain his voice. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re impossible to wake up.”

“So you had to push me out of bed?”

“You did that yourself!”

“Like hell I did!”

Jean felt stuck, because he felt like if he tried to defend himself he would have to share exactly _why_ Eren had fallen out of bed. And he couldn’t figure out how to say that without sounding gay as hell.

“Damn horseface…” Eren muttered bitterly as he climbed to his feet, rubbing at his head (which had been the thing to break his fall. Jean supposed it was a good thing the boy had an incredibly thick skull.)

“Suicidal idiot,” Jean snapped back, because that’s what was expected of him.

Eren shoved past him, bumping his chest as he forced his way past Jean and toward the bathroom.

Jean raised his hand to the spot where Eren had abused him, and wished he only felt anger at the boy. He’d been tempted to shove him back, but not to fight him… He wondered what Eren would feel like, pushed down beneath his body, squirming, hot and sweating from his efforts--but no. no way could he go there. The thoughts were far too dangerous. He could already feel a telling burn on his cheeks as he heard Eren doing his business in the bathroom. He could clearly hear Eren as he relieved itself because the boy had left the bathroom door open behind him.

_Obnoxious_ Jean thought, trying not to appreciate the motion. He knew that if he just took a few steps forward he would be able to see Eren with his pants down--a very tempting possibility. But no. _focus_ he thought _think of the massive amounts of crap you’re going to have to sort through in the storage room_.

Yes. That was a little better. Thoughts of mindless labor and Eren’s no doubt half assed work efforts were enough to bring him back to the present just as Eren pushed his way out of the bathroom, stuffing his shirt back into his pants as he did.

“Let’s just get this stupid thing over with,” Eren grumbled moving across the room, back toward the bed.

Jean’s brain supplied him with lots of useless information--like the fact that Eren’s socked feet looked so much smaller out of his boots, and that the whole back of the boys head was covered with dark hair that was sticking straight up. It shouldn’t have struck him as adorable, but it did, and that made him angrier.

“That’s my line,” Jean muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “ _You’re_ the one who decided to catch up on your beauty sleep.”

“Shut up, pissbutt,” Eren muttered, stuffing his feet into his boots and jumping a bit to get them on.

“I see your comebacks haven’t improved,” Jean shot back, “It’s nice to see that some things will never change.”

“Yeah, like that stupid horse face of yours,” Eren countered, smiling a bit as if he was proud of himself for thinking of it.

Jean wanted to punch him...and then push his leg up between the other boy’s and--

“You just going to stand there and look pretty for the rest of the night?” Eren grunted as he pushed past Jean and through the doorway.

Jean blinked, aware that he’d probably looked rather blank for the last few moments, and hurried after Eren.

“Did you get the key from the captain?” Eren demanded as Jean settled in beside them as they pushed down the hall.

“He said the room would be open for us,” Jean grunted, stuffing his pants into his pockets.

It was quiet for a moment but for the sound of their footsteps in the hall, and then--

“You look like an asshole when you do that,” Eren muttered, picking up the pace.

Jean felt a flare of annoyance. “Do what?”

“Walk around with your hands in your pockets as if you own the place.”

“ _Everyone_ walks around with their hands in their pockets. That’s what people _do_.”

“Not as assholishly as you do it.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Jean demanded.

“I’ll let the huge throbbing bump on my head answer that one,” Eren snapped.

“There’s nothing on your damn head except for your stupid face.”

“No. you must be looking in a mirror.”

“Fuck you, jaeger.” Jean seethed, thinking the other boy the most irritating person in the entire army.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, asshole?” Eren growled back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jean knew he couldn’t pause--that to do so would be too telling--But his mind was a blank canvas.

\---

_Eren:_

Great. He’d screwed up. He’d screwed up big time, Eren thought.

He’d been doing so well too. Ever since he’d been told that he’d be on evening cleaning duty with Jean of all people, he’d been terrified. Sure, he was pretty good at dealing with the asshole in a public setting, but the storage room was in the basement, and no one ever went down there. There’d be no one but him and Sr. Horse Face. For hours.

The thought had kept him awake all of last night and it had been why he’d felt like a zombie all day. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d come back to change out of his uniform, not wanting to get it filthy, but then he’d sat down on the bed, and...and the next thing he’d known his world had become noise and pain and then he’d seen _Jean_ standing there, looking at what an idiot he had made out of himself by falling out of bed, of all things… The thought of it was enough to make him groan. And what was worse was that he’d been having such a nice dream. He couldn’t’ remember what it was, but he remembered warmth and a smell...a good one. A smell that was clean and familiar.

But he couldn’t concentrate on that now. He had to deal with the idiocy that had just left his mouth.

_You’d like that, wouldn’t you_?

Had he really said that? God, it had just blurted out of him. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to say that to _jean_?

Too obvious. He was acting so damn obviously these days. It was only a matter of time before Jean caught him at it. There was only so many times you could sneak glances at another boy’s ass before they caught onto the fact that you wanted to fuck them up against the wall. He couldn’t seem to help it. Because--Jean’s _ass._ God. Eren had tried to describe to Armin what the hell it was that so fascinated him about the damn thing, but he came up blank. Sure, it was a nice ass, but it shouldn’t have been this mesmerizing. There were a lot of asses out there, but Eren wanted Jean’s, and he wanted it _bad_.

He knew that pretty much any other choice would have been better. Hell, wanting Pixis would have been better than this. It certainly would have been easier to acquire. Because Jean hated him. That much was obvious, and Eren couldn’t blame him. He knew how loud and obnoxious he was, and he was at his absolute worst around Jean. He always lost his cool around the boy and that led Eren to say things he didn’t mean--almost constantly. And he hated that. He couldn’t understand why his words kept getting mixed up. Like every time he called Jean a horse face he really meant, “Please let me run my hands through your hair I’ve been thinking about it all day,” and pretty much any time he insulted him it was a variation of that theme whether it was his hair, his abs, or that stupidly attractive butt as his. Eren knew his obsession with the thing would lead to his downfall. He had a feeling that one day he would just snap and reach out to put a hand on it--and then the earth would implode...plus Jean would no doubt call him a gay ass dork. And that would suck.

But Eren knew that even if he somehow managed to stop screwing up every encounter he had with the boy, it would make no difference, because Jean was in love with Mikasa, wasn’t he? He certainly had been at the beginning of their training days. The boy may have given up though because Eren couldn’t remember any recent memories of Jean voicing his affection for his sister.

But that was neither here nor there. Right now he had to figure out how he was going to get through the next few hours without screwing up anymore. Not that it probably mattered. Jean would probably give him the silent treatment from now until the end of--

“Not as much as you would, fuckface,” Jean spat back, a little too late to be considered a comeback.

Eren could have kissed him for that. Well, he wanted to kiss him regardless, but...he was just glad Jean wasn’t choosing to ignore him. Insulting each other was the one thing they both excelled at, and Eren felt the tension melt from his shoulders with Jean’s response.

“I’d rather get swallowed by a Titan again,” Eren lied even as he thought _I would make a complete fucking mess of you and it would be the hottest damn thing I’d ever experience._

“Yeah, well, you always were a kinky bastard,” Jean spat, stuffing his hands even deeper into his pockets. Eren found the gesture adorable and he knew Jean only did it when he was uncomfortable. When he’d made a comment about it he had meant to ask him what was wrong. Obviously it hadn’t come out that way.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Eren barked, using his anger as an excuse to lean further into Jean’s space. He did that a lot. He wondered when Jean would finally see through his actions. He feared for that day.

Jean gave him an obnoxious mocking smile that made Eren want to punch him in the mouth and then cover it with bruising kisses. He was used to these kinds of contradictory thoughts and they had long ago stopped bothering him. “Nothing, but you gotta admit you sure are obsessed with Titans. Makes you wonder sometimes…”

This time the flash of anger that shot through him was stronger than anything else. Before he could think, his body had instinctively shot forward and slammed Jean up against the wall.

“My mother was eaten by a Titan, you sick bastard!”

\--

_Jean:_

 

_Shit_ Jean thought, as Eren pushed his body up against his. He was pulsing heat. Why the hell was the boy always so warm? Was it because he was a Titan shifter? Jean didn’t know, and right now he was definitely not in the frame of mind to figure it out because he was really damn distracted.

_You are such an asshole_ he thought self critically, hating himself for what he had done. But he didn’t regret it. He wanted it too much for that.

It was just...the way Eren had looked at him… Jean had needed to touch him, and the only way he knew how to do that was to get Eren angry at him. He wondered whether Eren knew that he goaded him for the sole purpose of getting him close like this. He certainly hoped not. The day he figured it out would be the day he called Jean an ultra-gay bottom stuffer. And just the thought of that made him cringe.

What he’d said was despicable. The words had burned his tongue as he’d said them, but he’d done it anyway.

_He’s right. You’re sick. Beyond sick._ He thought _Who brings up a guy’s dead mom just to get a little action? You’re going to hell. Straight to the deepest pits of it._

He was actually pretty sure he was already there, because heat like this felt like it was coming from the crust of the earth. Eren had slammed Jean’s hands up above his hands and they were pressed chest to chest, hip to hip and-- _god_ jean thought _Is that his thigh between my legs_? _Fuck it’s hot and so hard and--shit! No! Don’t you dare move it you stupid bastard or I’ll--”_

Too late, Jean could already feel his pants growing tight. And that was unacceptable. At this close proximity Eren was sure to feel it. So as much as the idea displeased him, he knew what he had to do--Eren had to go.

He shoved against Eren’s chest. “Get off of me you crazed idiot! I’m sorry, god! Can’t you take a joke?”

The idea of apologizing to Eren was a last ditch effort on his part. It was distasteful, but he resorted to it, because the situation they were in was too dangerous. But if he thought that would fix everything--he was wrong.

Eren shoved forward in order to counteract Jean’s shoves against him.

“It’s not a fucking joke, you pig!”

“Shut up! I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“I don’t want your damn apologies!”

“Well, fine then, I take it back!”

“You can’t take it back, moron!”

“What did you just call me?”

“Moron! Moron! Fucking horse faced moron!”

Jean, normally so careful, felt his anger overcoming his logic, so that instead of worrying about his Eren induced, uh, “problem” downstairs, he was quickly becoming consumed with the idea of punching Eren through a wall.

He shoved against Eren so hard that the boy stumbled backward. But in order to steady himself Eren grabbed hold of the front of Jean’s shirt--and then they were both falling.

\--

_Eren:_

Eren’s Body hit the floor with a terrific crash, but he wasn’t able to focus on checking himself for sprained organs because he was immediately overwhelmed by the fact that he was completely covered by _Jean_.

_So heavy…_ Eren marveled loving the way he felt Jean’s muscles slide and catch against him. Eren wasn’t used to this kind of weight. Armin sent charging hugs toward him occasionally, but he couldn’t possibly match up to this.

He wanted more of it. Wanted Jean to push down against him, grind his hips down and push Eren with everything he had, creating more heat and friction and weight and-- _Oh fucking god no_.

Eren’s eyes shot open wide with horror as he felt himself go hard in his pants.

_Absolutely not. There’s no way I can let Jean know about this. He needs to get off. Right. Fucking. Now._

Eren jack knifed upward, slamming his forehead against Jean’s. Jean let out a roar of pain, and while he was distracted, Eren shoved the boy off of him and leapt to his feet.

He was glad for his thick skull at moments like this, because while Jean looked like he’d just gotten hit by a truck, Eren felt like he’d only suffered a mild concussion.

“God damn it, Eren!” Jean yelled for what had to be the seven thousandth time at least. Eren took it in stride. People said the phrase quite often when they were around him.

“Get up, doofus, it can’t hurt that much.”

“You broke my fucking head!”

“I just rearranged your face a little. It looks less horsey now. You should be thanking me,” Eren said dismissively, but inwardly he was worried. If he really had damaged the perfection that was Jean’s face then he’d never forgive himself. But thankfully when Jean looked up he looked just as handsome as he always had--his forehead just looked a little redder than usual, but it didn’t look permanent, and that was what mattered.

With his relief came the reminder that he still had an erect salami in his pants--well, a semi erect salami. Thankfully the bonk on the head had deflated things somewhat. But he wasn’t totally in the clear yet, so Eren swiftly turned around and continued walking, leaving Jean to sort himself out. Eren realized that their frequent fights often brought them into close proximity of each other. If they didn’t violently curse each other out while they rolled on the floor together people walking by might even confuse them for a couple making out. Eren could feel his face burning at the thought. Why did he have to want this? Why would he pick to like the one person he acted like a complete doucheface around?

At first it hadn’t been like this. Jean had merely annoyed him, and Eren had reacted to that. He’d thought the boy bratty, selfish, and arrogant, and he made damn sure that Jean knew it. But then one day Jean had been sick with a fever and he hadn’t come to training. Eren hadn’t noticed it at first but then people started pointing out that he was acting crabby and snappy, and then Eren had realized it was because he _was_ being crabby and snappy, and it was because he missed Jean. That had been a revelation to him. He hadn’t thought it possible to miss someone so irritating and annoying and hot and sexy and god that was when he’d realized how screwed he was. Incidentally, that was also the day he first jacked off to the thought of Jean Kirschtein. That had been three years ago, and he was no longer training, but he _was_ still jacking off to Jean, proving to him that some things never changed.

\--

_Jean:_

With muttered curses, Jean climbed to his feet, noting that Eren was already at the very end of the hall.

_What an asshole_ he thought, letting out a snort.

He realized that Eren hadn’t been far off the mark when he’d called him a moron because he couldn’t think of anyone but a moron falling in love with the infuriating boy.

He briefly brushed off the seat of his pants before beginning to walk. He was glad to see that at least he was no longer hard. The pounding in his head had ensured that. He was almost grateful to Eren for assaulting him. The key word was _almost_.

With a sigh he began to jog after Eren who had already turned the corner. He didn’t really blame the boy for running off after the comment he’d made about his mother, but hoped that the cracked head Eren had given him made them even.

That was one positive thing no one could deny about the boy. Eren might become angry easily, but he was also very quick to forgive as long. He never held a grudge, and that wasn’t something jean could say about a lot of people. He always knew where he stood with Eren, because the boy never hid the way he felt.

Jean felt a small jolt go through him when he realized he was grinning like an idiot.

Now he knew he really was a goner because he was smiling at the thought of an angry Eren telling him _exactly_ what he thought of him.

What the hell was lovable about that?

Too much, jean knew, because he’d tried not to love Eren. He’d tried so hard. When Marco had been alive Jean had complained to him constantly about all the ways that Eren annoyed him. But of course Marco had always had that way of looking at Jean and seeing the truth, and he’d seen right through him in that case as well. Jean still remembered it quite clearly. He’d been on kitchen duty with the freckled boy. He’d been peeling potatoes as Marco chopped tomatoes, and muttering some inane complaint about how annoying Eren’s breathing was, and that’s when Marco had looked at him and said, “Why don’t you just tell him that you like him?”

The line had so surprised Jean that he’d jumped violently and tore a patch of skin off his thumb with the knife he’d been holding. Marco had jumped to get him a rag to wrap his thumb in while apologizing profusely for startling him, but Jean had barely heard him or felt his injury. He’d been too shocked by the revelation he’d been handed. The reason for his constant obsession was due to feelings at the opposite end of the spectrum he’d thought his feelings had been lying on.

Liking Eren.

Of course Jean’s first response had been to vehemently deny it, but he hadn’t fooled Marco and he hadn’t fooled himself. For a few days after that he had been rather quiet. He’d even stayed back in the barracks, feigning a fever, in order to try and analyze his feelings while away from Eren. The intense way he’d missed the little titan shifter that day had only served to support Marco’s idea. After that he hadn’t stopped complaining about Eren, but sometimes he would blush as he did so, knowing both Marco and he knew the truth.

Jean felt a sharp pang as he thought of his dead best friend. Marco had been really good at keeping him sane. He had understood Jean better than anyone else had. But even though he was gone now, he had still left Jean with an easier ability to analyze himself. Jean had even named the little voice in his head “Little Marco.” it was the voice that sent him warnings when he was about to do something incredibly stupid. Unsurprisingly the voice was most active when Eren was around.

In fact, it was going off right now, as Jean rounded the corner at a jog and began to race down the steps toward the basement in an attempt to catch up with the boy. “Oi! Eren! Why don’t you try _not_ to be an ass for just two seconds and wait for me too--”

He collided with Eren’s back as he rounded the second corner after the stairs, making his sentence useless, as Eren had, indeed, stopped to wait for him.

Eren shoved him off and glared at him. “Aren’t horses supposed to be graceful?”

“Who the hell gave you that idea?” Jean asked, realizing too late that his response meant he’d agreed with Eren that he looked like a horse.

A glance at Eren’s face made it clear that Eren wasn’t sure what to make of this. His mouth was twitching as if fighting both a smile and a frown. It seemed that his victory was a bittersweet one, because if Jean accepted his insults it meant that it would no longer be fun to torment him.

Jean could have laughed. He’d stumbled on the solution to all their animosity quite by accident. If he’d done this years ago it all would have been over. Hell, they might even have been friends after that.

That was a very strange thought, and yet, not a bitter one. Because Jean didn’t resent their current relationship more than he would have an ordinary friendship. He resented the fact they weren’t going at it like bunnies in heat, but he actually _liked_ all the fighting and insults. It was real. It made him feel alive. And yes, he may have barked and made horrible faces at Eren, but most of the time he didn’t mean it. Many nights he even fell asleep with a smile after he reviewed his encounters with Eren in his mind.

For the umpteenth time Jean was seized by the urge to tackle Eren to the ground and bite and kiss every inch of the boy’s body.

_What if I just did it?_ Jean wondered, thinking longingly at the freedom of the thought _What would happen if I just whipped him around and kissed him. No warning. No thinking. Just Eren’s lips. Soft from surprise…”_

It would be very pleasant, jean knew, for the 0.002 seconds before Jean reached back and punched him in the face. Hell, it might make the boy so angry that he’d transform into a titan and stomp Jean to death.

Though even this thought wasn’t enough to throw him completely off. He couldn’t help wondering if maybe even that would be worth it.

But in the end all his musings were for nothing because Eren walked off before Jean could come to a decision.

The boy started down the last section of the hallway, and after a moment and a sigh, Jean followed after him.

They reached the door to the storage room and found that it was already standing open for them, the key stuck through the keyhole. Eren barged in like he owned the place--a reaction Jean was already used to--stopped in the middle of the dingy room, placed his hands on his hips, and pronounced, “Well this is going to take damn near forever.”

Jean, as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, took a look around and found his heart sinking in agreement. The place looked like no one had entered it in years, even though Jean knew that couldn’t be the case. Layers of dust, thick as blankets, appeared to coat everything on the shelves, and the wooden floor was caked so thickly with dirt that Jean couldn’t help wondering if they’d let a stampede of horses through the space. Cobwebs claimed every corner, many of them still housing their arachnid friends, and out of the corner of his eye Jean saw a mouse dart behind one of the crates.

“Here’s an idea,” Jean grumbled, “Why don’t we take turns killing each other so we can leave this disgusting excuse for a room to someone else.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “No thanks. Knowing you, you’d mess up on killing me, and then I’d still be left to clean it with a ruptured spleen.”

“There’s no way I’d mess up,” Jean countered, “Not after all the years I fantasized about killing you.”

Eren started to roll his eyes, realized he’d just done that, and settled for stomping over to the corner for a broom.

“It’ll take something a lot stronger than that to make a dent in any of this,” Jean muttered, eyeing the ordinary broom doubtfully.

“Are you going to just make smart aleck comments all night, or are you going to help me?” Eren snapped, turning around and jumping up to smack one of the cobwebs off the ceiling with the bottom of his broom.

_Actually, I’d prefer to just stare at your ass for the remainder of all your jumping around,_ Jean thought, sneaking a glance at the firm titan-shifting tush. But of course he didn’t say that, instead lifting the bucket sitting on the floor and bringing it over to the storage room sink for filling.

“I guess you should start by knocking all the dust off onto the floor,” Jean mused, taking another glance around the room, “It makes the most sense to work from top to bottom.”

At the word “bottom” his eyes snaked treacherously back to Eren’s ass.

“That’s what I’m already trying to do, idiot,” Eren huffed as he strained to reach another cobweb on the corner of the topmost shelf. It was clearly out of range, but that didn’t stop the boy from leaping up to whack at it with all his might.

Jean had to subdue the laugh that was bubbling up his throat. The boy was wearing his Titan killing face--the one with the deep set scowl and the murderous eyes, but the cobweb didn’t seem to fear him in the slightest.

Jean set down the bucket and began to cross the room.

“You’ll never get it that way, idiot. Stop bouncing around before you pass out,” he called.

“I can get it,” Eren hissed, not taking his eyes off the cobweb. “I just need a little more--”

“It’s called a step stool, moron,” Jean sighed, “Just take one of those crates and push it over to…”

Jean let the rest of his sentence trail off into nothing when he realized his audience wasn’t listening. Eren was already jumping again.

“Oi! I’m offering you good advice you one-tracked-minded oaf,” Jean snapped storming up to Eren’s side. “Just take one of the crates and--”

“I can do it by myself!” Eren insisted, taking a swipe with the broom and knocking a can of paint off the shelf (the cobweb still perfectly in place).

“It’s not some sort of competition, Eren, stop being so stubborn,” Jean admonished, stalking over to one of the crates and beginning to tug at it himself.

“No!” Eren cried, whipping around and brandishing his broom like some sort of weapon, “I don’t need the stinking crate!”

“You _clearly_ need the stinking crate,” Jean insisted.

Eren scowl turned deadly and he pointed the broom at Jean. “I _will_ kill the cobweb,” he swore.

_Why’s it always killing with you?_ Jean thought, and realized the thought was almost fond. That was a dangerous sign, he knew. If he was finding even Eren’s murderous tendencies cute then he knew he was really lost.

Jean let go of the crate and stalked toward Eren, and when he made no sign of stopping, Eren’s eyes widened. He didn’t get a chance to say anything, however, before Jean grabbed him round the waist and hoisted him up in his arms. “Hurry up and hit it,” Jean growled as he pushed Eren up as high as he could, a job made difficult by how much the green-eyed boy was squirming.

“What the hell are you doing,” Eren cried, his feet kicking at Jean’s legs.

“Trying to help you, pisshead,” Jean grunted, “Something I’m already regretting, I assure you, now hit the damn cobweb before I hit _you_.”

“Put me down, assface!”

“I’ll drop you if you don’t shut up,” Jean warned, “You’re like a giant pile of rocks. What the hell do you even eat?”

“Are you calling me fat?” Eren asked looking taken aback.

“I’m certainly not calling you thin,” Jean grunted, “I didn’t realize the rest of you was as dense as your head.”

“I’m going to kick my foot up your ass.”

“Damn it, Eren! Insult me later, my arms are about to fall off.”

“It would serve you right,” Eren grumbled, sounding stupidly offended in Jean’s opinion. The boy was gorgeous. He didn’t have anything to be self-conscious about. But like all well-muscled trainees he was really damn heavy.

“Just hit the damn cobweb,” Jean shouted, losing all patience as his arms trembled.

“All right, all right, keep your hooves on,” Eren snapped, taking a broad sweep with the broom, managing to miss even at this close proximity. Jean wanted to curse Eren and his awful aim thoroughly, but he was too busy trying to keep his balance, because Eren’s violent swipe knocked Jean from his center of gravity, and he found himself teetering backward.

“Watch out you ass shitter!” Eren cried as Jean stumbled back, but it was too late, with a sharp inhale, Jean lost his balance completely and his feet left the ground as he keeled over backward, taking Eren with him.

They crashed to the floor together in a big mess of limbs and bruises. Right before they hit the ground Jean wrapped his arms more securely around Eren, pulling him into the safety of his body as he angled himself so that his body was the one that absorbed most of the impact of the fall.

\--

_Eren:_

The crack that resonated from the floor as they hit made Eren wince even though it didn’t come with a blooming of pain.

And then he realized why that was the case.

And then he panicked.

“Jean!” he cried, quickly pushing himself up onto his elbows to give the boy some room. “Jean are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not,” Jean admitted grumpily, “How can I be with you shouting in my ear like that.

But though he was trying to play it off lightly, Eren wasn’t fooled. He only had to look at the creased pain in Jean’s face as he struggled to sit up to realize the truth of the matter.

“You’re hurt,” Eren said in a strangled kind of way that came from not knowing what to do.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Jean insisted, big fat liar that he was. And this soon became clear when he reached up to touch his tender head and drew back his fingers that were revealed to be covered in blood.

“Oh my god! You’re dying!” Eren shouted, losing it completely as he reached for the back of the other’s head.

Jean quickly darted back to avoid the clumsy hands and stumbled to his feet. “I’m not, so calm down you graceless idiot before you have an aneurism.”

But aneurisms didn’t hold any fear for Eren right now--not when he was convinced that the boy before him was going to be taken from this world before Eren had gotten a chance to sneak a kiss in. He scrambled to his feet as well and quickly darted behind Jean to check the damage. The second his eyes took in Jean’s blood soaked hair he let out a shriek.

“Oh my god, Jean! It’s too late even for the hospital! Do you have any last words?”

Jean’s mouth twitched strangely, as if he couldn’t quite seem to find the expression he wished to settle on, but then he just shook his head. “God, you’re a moron.”

“Those are your last words? Seriously?”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Eren couldn’t help casting his doubt on the other boy.

“Well they’re probably the truest words I’ve ever spoken, so….”

Eren had to remind himself that the boy he cared about was dying in order to reel in the urge to punch him in the face. Jean seemed to sense this, because he grinned. “You can abuse me if you want. Like i said, I’m not dying.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it!” Eren insisted, genuinely scared and needing assurance.

When Jean leaned his head in, Eren instinctively flinched, thinking Jean would want some payback for that nasty fall, but instead the boy merely stayed there, stopped only several inches away from his face, his warm breath washing over Eren’s face in little gentle waves.

“There. You see?” Jean said in a quiet voice Eren had never heard before. “I’m still breathing. That’s something only alive people do, right?”

Eren felt his heart speed up and pound like _he_ was the one dying, and cursed himself for getting all worked up when he should have been worried about Jean. But he couldn’t help it. The boy was too...pretty. There was no denying that much. Light brown eyes weren’t supposed to be that mesmerizing, damn it.

_Stop being so hot_ Eren mentally cued the boy _Stop it. It’s beyond distracting. Why do you always do this to me? It’s like you grow hotter every day on purpose just to spite me._

But Eren couldn’t keep his resentment close to his heart while simultaneously fantasizing about making love to the boy--one of them had to go, and it wasn’t going to be the elaborate mental sex.

Something must have shown on Eren’s face, because at that moment Jean blushed and yanked his head back, putting a safer amount of distance between them.

_Shit. He can feel it_ , Eren panicked, _You have to hide it better, idiot._

But he wasn’t sure how to do that because he was starting to doubt whether he could keep up the “I hate your guts” charade any longer. It was exhausting.

“Let’s get you to the medical room,” Eren blurted, using the circumstances to distract himself. He was already turning toward the door, and as he moved forward he grabbed Jean around the wrist and tugged.

“What? I don’t need--”

“You’re going,” Eren said with an air of finality, “And there’s nothing that can stop me from taking you there.”

Eren yanked at the door and prepared to throw it open. Only it didn’t move.

The door Jean had closed behind him not 15 minutes ago was stuck in place more firmly than Eren refusing to eat his broccoli.

“Shit…” Eren whispered giving the door another useless tug.

“Nothing that can stop you, eh?” Jean said slightly hysterically.

“Shut up, I’m trying,” Eren grunted, putting his foot against the doorjamb for leverage and yanking with all his might.

“Maybe it’s idiot proof,” Jean suggested, shouldering Eren out of the way and giving the door a yank himself.

It didn’t budge.

Now Jean, who realized Eren wasn’t joking, felt all the color drain out of his face.

“You mean we’re _trapped_ in here?” Jean said, looking green around the edges.

But if Jean looked bad, Eren looked worse.

_No_! his mind screamed _No no no--I can’t be locked in here with Jean. No way, I can’t handle that much significant alone time. I’ll die. Or worse--I’ll jump on him and make a total fool out of myself._

Eren’s inner horror show was interrupted by Jean’s accusation.

“This is all _your_ fault you dung for brains poop trampler!” he growled, giving Eren’s chest a shove.

Eren’s swelling indignation at the charge stopped him from stumbling backwards. “My fault?” he said, puffing out his chest and leaning into Jean’s space. “ _You’re_ the one who shut the door!”

“Yeah, well _you_ were the one who opened the door and forgot to take the key in with you!”

“You were last in, so _you_ should have taken it!”

“ _You_ should have been born less stupid!”

“Well _you_ shouldn’t have been born at all.”

“That’s what your dad said when your mom didn’t swallow you!”

“What was that you said about my mother!” Eren screamed, triggered by the word more strongly than if there had been titans present.

Eren’s fury was so consuming that he didn’t realize he was locked in a hold with Jean until the other boy wrenched himself away with a tense, “Now what the hell are we supposed to do, genius!”

“Don’t look at me,” Eren grumbled huffily, “I was just supposed to be swallowed, _remember_? You’re the brains behind this operation.”

Jean groaned, slapping his hands over his face. “Great. I had to get stuck with the least helpful recruit in the history of the survey corps.”

“Hey! I beat you out in the top 10 lineup, didn’t I?” Eren growled, picking at the sorest topic he could find.

Jean looked on the edge of exploding at that, but then surprisingly, he retreated with a mumbled, “Can’t even hit a cobweb…”

What scared Eren is that the boy didn’t even say it with malice. If Jean wasn’t putting effort into his comebacks that was a serious indicator that something was wrong.

“Your head,” Eren said, drawing a little closer to the boy. “Is it--”

“It’s fine!” Jean snapped, running his hands through his hair with rough angry strokes, not even wincing when his fingers brushed up against his wound.

Eren felt his panic only ramp up even more. He remembered the times when Jean was a whiney baby, and any wound, even a paper cut, would’ve been followed by a huge dramatic scene. But this Jean was even grittier than he was. Sure, Jean had toughened up a ridiculous amount since Marco’s death--so much so that Eren couldn’t help falling deeper into the pit of his feelings for the boy, but this was beyond that. Jean looked frantic, but it had nothing to do with the blood slowly crusting on the back of his neck. As Eren watched, Jean pulled his foot back and kicked an empty bucket clear across the room where it hit the opposite wall with a bang.

Eren flinched. “Calm down, Jean,” he snapped, “I don’t like this any more than you do, but we’ll be rescued eventually. Somebody’s bound to recognize we’re down here and come down to get us--”

Eren stopped dead in his tracks and it had everything to do with the current glare Jean was levelling at him. The distance between them did nothing to diminish the intensity of the expression.

“You filthy jackass!” Jean snarled, “I can’t fucking stand you!”

Eren didn’t even get angry at the words. He grew terrified. Never, not in all the time he had known the other boy, had jean looked at him like that.

Jean stormed across the room, and Eren did nothing to stop him, frozen as he was to the square foot of dirty floor he was standing down. Jean’s hand connected with Eren’s chest, launching the boy backwards into the wall. Jean slammed up against him and fisted his hand tightly in Eren’s shirt, dragged him slightly forward and then slammed him, with even greater force, against the wall once again.

“ _That’s_ your problem!” he shouted, breath, hot and explosive, coating Eren’s face that was nothing like before. “You’re always getting into messes and just depending on other people to come and rescue you! You jump into these stupid situations, and then you don’t even blink, because you just assume everyone will be willing to throw their life away in order to drag you back home again, safe and sound.”

“Whoa! Jean! Nobody’s throwing away their life to--”

“Marco!” Jean roared, suddenly so emotional that he had to support his weight against the wall, “What about fucking Marco Bodt, Eren? Forgotten about him already, have you?”

Eren didn’t know what to do. Usually whenever he faced a problem he just punched it until it either gave up or stopped breathing. But he didn’t want to punch Jean now. Not when the boy was carrying more hurt and anger in his eyes than Eren had thought possible.

“Jean…” he murmured, horrified, having no idea what he’d done to bring this on.

“No! Don’t you “jean” me as if you’re innocent!”

“I don’t think--”

“EXACTLY!” Jean screamed, wrenching at Eren’s shoulders and shaking him, “You don’t think! You _never_ think. You just act and leave others to pick up the pieces. You chronically need help in your harebrained schemes, but you never stop to actually _ask_ others if you can have it. You just assume, and then people lose their lives because you don’t--”

“I never asked anyone to give their life for me!” Eren shouted, gripping Jean in return as a familiar fury return to him. But it wasn’t an anger directed toward Jean. It was for himself.

“I don’t ask because I don’t want it! I’m sick of people hurting themselves over me! I’d take back every single one if I could and die a thousand deaths to bring them back. I don’t expect them to come. I don’t go because I know I’ll have backup. In fact, I hope I won’t, because I could never wish that horror on anyone. I don’t want--”

“It doesn’t matter what you want!” Jean interrupted, wrenching at Eren’s shirt so violently that it ripped right down the middle, “They’ll come. They’ll always fucking come because you, despite how hard you try, are not allowed to die. You’re worth more than the rest of us, as much as it sickens me to say, your abilities are indispensable, and so there will always be more deaths, more sacrifices, and just because you refuse to look at them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Eren could feel sharp angry tears prickling in his eyes. He’d told himself the same things hundreds, if not thousands of times, but none of those times had hurt as much as the words did coming out of Jean’s mouth.

“You should have convinced him not to go,” Eren whispered in a crumpled voice. His fists balled tightly to prevent the tears from spilling, “You should have talked Marco out of it. He loved you. He would’ve listened to you. He would have. I _know_ he would have.”

Rather than feeling Jean’s hands loosen in disgust, they only dug deeper into his clothes and skin, holding him tighter. “Maybe he would have,” Jean admitted, his eyes shut tightly with pain, “I don’t know. I’ll never know, because I was the one who convinced him to go.”

Eren’s eyes shot open as wide as they had when his mother had been consumed right before his eyes.

“No…” he whispered, looking at Jean’s tight, barely concealed hurt, and recognized it implicitly, because he’d seen it so many times in himself. Jean was furious, but not at Eren, not really. Jean’s anger was all for himself.

Eren’s hand shakily raised itself and gripped Jean’s shirt. “No, Jean, don’t--”

“He was my best friend,” Jean said, the words spilling from him with raw and ripping pain, “My dearest friend. I would have given my own life to him in a second. And yet, that day, I still sent him out. I still let him go. Because...Because…”

Jean squeezed his eyes even tighter--as tight as they would go, but then he sprang them open and looked directly into Eren’s eyes, and there was no hiding anything in the light brown orbs.

“Because I couldn’t lose you,” he let out in a rush, “Because as much as I hated what you were doing, and as much as I wanted to punch your stupid body through a wall, I knew that if you died I would never be okay again.”

Eren hands were pulling Jean closer, needing to do something. Needing to take the hurt. Needing to hold the precious boy tighter than his arms could hold.

But Jean wasn’t done. Though Eren was already at the limit of what he could take, Jean let his forehead fall against Eren’s with unmistakable defeat and his eyes squeezed shut once more as his face spasmed with intense feeling. “Because I _love_ you, you stupid, infuriating _fuck_ ,” Jean spat, sounding more pissed off at this fact than anything else in the world. “I didn’t ask for it, I didn’t want it, but I’ve tried to change it countless times and it hasn’t done a lick of good, so you’re fucking stuck with it Jaeger, and you can go ahead and hate me even more now if you want.”

Eren looked at this boy, the one with the trembling body and the tightly squeezed eyes and let his body take it all in--all the anger, the fear, and, to his absolute amazement, the love for him that swelled behind every movement of Jean’s beautiful body.

And Eren fell harder and more completely for the boy than he’d ever thought possible for his large and volatile heart.

\--

_Jean:_

 

Jean’s heart, though it had never beat harder, had never felt lighter either. The words. for so long heavy and constricting inside of him, were suddenly free, and though he was terrified at his inability to take them back, be found that he didn’t _want_ to take them back. There was no way he could imagine taking that stiff silence back into his chest to suffocate him. Not when his breathing was easier than it had been for years. Not when Eren hadn’t yet thrown him to the ground and pummeled the shit out of him.

No. He would allow himself these precious few moments. This feeling of Eren warm--always warmer than anyone else--in his arms. But he was trembling. Probably horrified. He’d throw Jean off him soon, he was sure, any moment now.

“I’m sorry,” Jean murmured. Not for his feelings, which he couldn’t have changed even with a heart transplant, but for dumping them on Eren with no warning. He was sorry that the happiness and relief that flooded him at the admission of his feelings would lead to discomfort and awkwardness for the other teen. And he was also sorry for shrieking at the boy like a deranged psychopath. But Eren was used to that, no doubt, because Jean never managed to talk to him normally, after all.

 

“Jean.”

Jean didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

“Jean, look at me.”

Now that was a request even more impossible than answering the boy. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and see the boy’s reaction. He, of course, hadn’t even considered acceptance. But even though he knew he would be rejected from the boy he was sure hated him, he wasn’t sure his ego could handle actually _seeing_ it happen.

He shook his head, and his proximity to Eren caused their noses to brush against each other.

Jean felt his heart hammer against him mercilessly. _So close_ he remembered suddenly, his hands tightening in the boy’s shirt. His fingers were aching from the effort _He’s right here._

“ _Jean_ ,” Eren said, louder this time, “ _Look_ at me.”

“Can’t,” Jean rasped, his eyes squeezed so tightly shut that colored spots were flashing behind his eyelids, “Can’t bear it.”

He felt a light touch at his jaw, and it was so unexpected that Jean jumped. But Eren didn’t. His body felt a little steadier now. “Fine then,” he growled, “It’s less embarrassing with your eyes shut anyway.”

_What’s less embarrassing with my eyes…_

Jean’s thought trailed off as he felt Eren shift beneath him. The other boy’s next action should have been obvious to Jean, but it wasn’t, because when Eren brushed a tentative pair of lips across the other boy’s, Jean snapped up like he’d just had a white hot poker shoved up his ass.

“The _fuck_ , Eren?” he shouted, his hand flying to his mouth.

Eren, ever the adorable simpleton, simply looked at him with confusion. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Jeans thoughts braked hard and then tripped over themselves as his skin went from reasonably controlled to redder and hotter than the colossal Titan’s.

“I--that’s--I mean--IDIOT!” Jean stammered.

“What?” Eren asked, looking small and cute and beyond what Jean could handle.

“It’s...it’s not about what I want now!” Jean huffed, wondering how on earth Eren managed to be so clueless all the time.

“Then what is it about?” Eren asked, looking genuinely curious.

Jean glanced toward the wall and wondered about how nice it would feel to bang his head repeatedly against it. He was already beyond embarrassed, but apparently he had to go still further.

“I...because I don’t want it if you don’t--I mean-- _you_ don’t want to kiss me, right?”

Eren crossed his arms over his chest, “Of course I do,” he grumbled, “Wanted to for years.”

Jean’s jaw must have unhinged because there was no way it could fall that far open naturally.

“You...WHAT?”

“Wanted to kiss you,” Eren said, looking annoyed at having to repeat himself.

At Jean’s dumbfounded look he merely shrugged. “What?” he said defensively, “You’re hot, okay?”

Jean couldn’t process this. He hadn’t been born with enough brain cells to process this. He briefly wondered if someone had managed to slip him some hallucinogenic drugs.

Eren fidgeted near the wall which he hadn’t yet moved from. He looked uncomfortable, and after he spoke his next words, Jean knew why.

“So,” the green eyed boy proposed, “Are we going to have sex, or what?”

“WHAT?” Jean roared, feeling his Liver give up and dissolve inside of him because it was _not_ going to deal with this level of shit. Jean wished it could follow in its example but instead he was stuck here listening to the ridiculousness emanating from Eren’s mouth.

“Damn,” Eren muttered, “I thought you’d say yes for sure…”

“WHY THE HELL WOULD I DO THAT?” Jean continued in his roar, still unable to believe after all these years that the boy before him was real.

“Because you’ve been lusting after me just as long as I have?” Eren asked, hope filling his eyes.

Jean wanted to scream, so he did, letting out a sound that was quite similar to a koala having leaves stuffed down the wrong hole. Eren’s words were true, of course, but just like everything he said, the boy’s words never failed to make Jean wish to punch the kid’s lights out.

“Eren Goddamn Jaeger!” he snarled, stalking back over to the boy and slamming his hand against the wall right beside Eren’s head, “This is the shittiest seduction I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness.”

And yet...despite Eren’s obvious crapiness in the romance department, Jean still found himself shivering, and his heart hadn’t calmed down any.

“Of course it is,” Eren said gripping the straps on Jean’s hips. “We suck at this. Hell, we think flirting means punching each other in the face multiple times. But it still feels damn good, doesn’t it?”

Jean’s fingers dug into the wall painfully, one of his nails bending backward as he did so. He was so angry and turned on that his body just wanted to tear itself to shreds. He wanted to go on a long and detailed rant of all the reasons he couldn’t stand Eren fucking jaeger. It was sure to be a horrifically long list, something that kept them both up for days. But Jean didn’t do that. Because there was something he needed to do a lot more.

“Just shut up and kiss me already,” He growled, dropping his hand from the wall to Eren’s head, fisting the boy’s hair and he yanked him up and tilted his head back.

\---

 

_Eren:_

 

Eren’s breath became tingling needles in his throat as Jean’s mouth descended toward him promising him more of the electric pleasure he’d only experienced for a moment--but what a moment it had been.

Eren didn’t pretend to be a good kisser. He’d only kissed someone once--Armin--and it had only been a mutual experiment to find out what kissing felt like.

That kiss hadn’t been like _this_.

Eren could feel every piece of him screaming in its alertness, every cell crying out for jean and rerouting all of his brain processes to pathways that would lead him closer to the boy.

And that’s why, at Jean’s slow and torturous descent, Eren’s brain made him take a shortcut, and that’s when his hands grabbed tight hold of Jean’s face, yanked it down, and then attacked his mouth in a ferocious biting kiss.

The kiss, it turned out, wasn’t different than all their other interactions--harsh, brutal, and full of an easy kind of sense that didn’t infect much else in his life.

Titans didn’t make sense, his own abilities didn’t make sense, and the government’s wishes for him didn’t make very much sense to him either--but kissing Jean made sense. It made so much sense that Eren quickly resolved to do it at every given opportunity.

“Jean,” Eren groaned as the boy’s tongue and teeth did things to Eren that he _knew_ he’d be having dreams about later--the kinds of dreams Mikasa would smack him for.

“Shut up,” Jean growled stuffing his hand down between them to clumsily palm at Eren through his pants, “Unless your next words are going to be ‘Please let me fuck you into the wall,' I don’t want to hear it.

Eren let out a gasping moan and bucked up into Jean’s hand. The only one who had ever touched him there before was himself, so he didn’t have much to compare it to, but he did know it felt very, _very_ good, and he would do anything to keep it going, so, gathering all his strength and wits about him, he forced words to leave his mouth in a stilted groan. “Please...let me…”

But that wasn’t good enough. Jean grasped tight hold of Eren’s hair and yanked his head back forcing him to look into his blazing eyes. “Let you _what_?” Jean demanded, breathing laboriously.

Eren whimpered as his lust ripped through him at unprecedented levels. “Fuck you,” he groaned, fingers scrabbling and yanking at Jean’s shirt, “Let me fuck you.”

Eren’s vision was actually distorted from how much he wanted Jean at that moment. Things were bending and shifting in weird ways, but the focus of his vision, Jean eyes, remained the same.

But Jean, curse him, still wasn’t done, though when he spoke next it wasn’t more than a rasp and his voice cracked on the word. “Why?” he demanded.

“Because…”

Eren was forced to follow the large lump that appeared in his throat, but it didn’t help much. His throat was constricted with emotion, because if he thought his lust at that moment was strong, it had nothing on the deeper feelings he had for the boy.

“Because…”

No good, Eren’s voice was completely shot and everything was starting to blur as the tears, unable to stay back for long, appeared in full force. The tears were a problem he had, he knew. It wasn’t manly, and it wasn’t hot, but even though Eren had tried to hold them back on countless occasions they _always_ made an appearance when he was feeling especially passionate.

And he was feeling passionate now.

“Because--”

This time the word was so strangled that it didn’t even sound like human speech, and, hearing it, Jean’s eyes turned soft, burning in a deeper, gentler way than they had been before. “It’s okay,” Jean murmured, swiping his thumb across Eren’s cheek. It was the first gentle motion Eren had ever felt from the boy, and he found that he much preferred Jean’s roughness because the gentleness would break him so much faster. “You don’t have to,” Jean assured him, leaning onto his forehead once more.

But Eren wasn’t going to take the exit Jean was offering him. If Jean could say it, than so could he, so he pushed Jean’s hand aside, and grabbed hold of it tightly. And just as the tears spilled over his lids and raced down his cheeks in twin trails, the words tumbled out of Eren in a heartfelt gasp. “Because I love you,” Eren sobbed, burying his face in Jean’s chest. “I love all of you, even your stupid horseface.”

“You mean _especially_ my stupid horse face,” Jean grumbled, trying to ease the moment with a little humor, but not sounding all that stable himself. His voice was trembling.

Eren only sobbed harder.

“Always crying…” Jean grumbled, but there was a soft, almost vulnerable warmth in his voice as he said it.

“Shut up!” Eren cried, crumpling Jean’s shirt in his hands as he buried his face in the warmth of Jean’s chest. He’d never really thought about the height difference between him and Jean since he wasn’t usually good with details, and it wasn’t that large to begin with, but he felt it now. Jean’s arms, as they circled around him were just a bit longer than his own, and his chest was just a bit higher, and Eren found the difference comforting rather than disquieting.

“My own personal cry baby brat,” Jean teased, nipping at Eren’s ear, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I hate you,” Eren growled, feeling the bottom of his stomach melt and give out from Jean’s gentle touches.

“Liar,” Jean growled, pulling Eren’s shirt tail out of his pants before slipping his hands beneath the material to trace light trails on the boy’s back.

“I can both hate and love you, ya know,” Eren pointed out, shifting up a bit to push his face into Jean’s neck. He was shivering from the little electric tingles Jean’s fingers were giving him.

“Nah,” jean said, chuckling, “You’re not very good at doing two things at once.”

“Fuck you, Kirschtein,” Eren growled.

“That’s certainly what I’m hoping for,” he admitted, causing Eren to steam like he did in Titan form.

“Pervert,” Eren mumbled, though he noted that his eyes were clear and his tears were drying--all thanks to Jean, no doubt.

“Like you’re not thinking it too,” Jean said shamelessly.

Eren’s red face was practically a confession, but he said nothing.

Jean pushed back at Eren’s shoulders and nudged the boy’s face up with his nose, searching for the boy’s lips. “Eren…” he whispered grazing the boy’s jaw with a kiss. He pushed Eren’s shoulders down with a constant pressure until Eren felt the wood floor beneath his back and he had Jean leaning over him.

He could barely hear the boy over the roaring of his blood in his ears. He was so hard, and Jean seemed so good at this that he couldn’t help but feel inadequate with his clumsy desperateness.

Jean climbed on top of him, sliding one of his thighs between Eren’s legs and pressing down on him until they were chest to chest. Both of them were breathing hard, but Eren was breathing harder, because he was feeling Jean’s burning erection against his stomach for the first time.

It seemed impossible to him that a boy like Jean could fall for someone as crazy and socially inept as him, but he’d experienced other impossible things before and had learned to just go with the flow.

_Just concentrate on staying alive_ Eren prompted himself as his heart threatened to explode _Breathing. That one’s important. Keep breathing even though your chest feels like it’s being squeezed to the size of a thimble. Keep breathing even though Jean is the hottest damn thing in creation. Just keep friggen breathing even though the stupid idiot is kissing you and touching you and making life generally impossible._

Eren wasn’t breathing.

“You’re not breathing,” Jean pointed out like the douchebag Eren knew and loved.

“And whose fault is that, assface?”

“I think I prefer having a face like a horse, actually,” Jean admitted.

“That’s only because you haven’t seen your ass,” Eren blurted, proving, once again, that he tended not to think before he spoke.

Jean’s delighted smile was the first thing that tipped Eren off, and then his oxygen deprived brain finally realized what he’d said, and clamped his mouth shut in horror.

“So you like my ass, do you Jaeger?” Jean asked, slamming Eren’s hands to the floor. “Been staring at it a lot lately?”

Eren knew his bright flush was a dead giveaway, but still he insisted on the negative. "No," he stated adamantly.

“Liar,” Jean said again. Eren observed that the boy certainly seemed to enjoy pointing out this fact.

“In your dreams, Jean,” Eren growled.

Jean leaned in even closer, causing Eren’s breath to hitch in his chest. “That may be so,” Jean answered, “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a filthy liar.”

“Am not,” Eren snapped, though in a lie so bad it wouldn’t even convince Reiner.

Jean was grinning like he’d just seen Levi fall into a muddy puddle. “So when was it?” he demanded. “In the shower? Or during training exercises?”

_Don’t tell him._ Eren coached himself. _Don’t you dare tell him._

“In the mornings,” Eren admitted, realizing he’d probably never be able to hold any information from Jean again, “When you would change. I--you were always _right_ there. It was almost like--”

“I was putting myself there on purpose?” Jean finished, wicked smile carved into his face.

Eren shivered. He’d let Jean do all kinds of things to him while he was wearing that smile. Eren swallowed. “Were you?” he asked, “Doing it on purpose, I mean?”

“Of course,” Jean said with a roll of his eyes, “My bed was four down from yours. Why on earth would I park myself directly in front of you every morning if not for the sole purpose of stripping before your eyes?”

It seemed that every minute Eren was being asked to believe steadily more and more ridiculous things.

“Were you really that desperate?” Eren asked in an awe filled voice.

Jean let out a dry little laugh. “Nauseatingly so, I’m afraid. And I hated you for it too, causing me make a fool out of myself instead of just jumping me like I so desperately wanted you to.”

Eren felt a pang in his chest. _So much waste_ , he thought, looking at the handsome boy who was so damn special for so many reasons. He was smarter than Eren, and even braver in some ways because while Eren just jumped into things without thinking, Jean actually evaluated and recognized all the risks in an action--and then, despite his fear--did it anyway. Most of his long standing aggression toward the boy had actually been fueled by jealousy. Because Jean was impressive, and beneath all that jealousy was admiration. To think that he had let negative feelings prevent all _this_ from happening was one of the stupidest most pointless reasons for suffering he’d ever heard of. And he was truly sorry for it.

“I wanted you too,” he assured the boy, unable to meet Jean’s eyes because of his shame. “I did. So much. You don’t know.”

He felt a strong pressure under his skin, and Jean drew his face up, looking at him again with those strong intense eyes. Without wavering, Jean lifted Eren’s hand and raised it to his waist, never breaking eye contact.

“Then show me,” he murmured, shivering slightly as Eren’s fingers curled tightly around his belt buckle, “Show me how much you want me.”

\--

_Jean:_

 

Jean’s hands were shaking, but he was trying to hide it. Weakness was something he never showed Eren, and changing something like that would take time. He’d resolved to appear strong at all times ever since he’d been ranked one space after Eren in the top 10 line up.

Eren, who had always been stronger and more courageous than him, Eren who loved unconditionally and felt so strongly and passionately about his opinions. Eren, who always seemed to know what he wanted and acted with utmost confidence. Eren was someone Jean had striven to emulate for a very long time and had known only endless frustration as he kept coming up short.

There were so many qualities about Eren that he admired, but perhaps the one he’d found most impressive was Eren’s openness with his feelings. Eren didn’t lie, and when he did, he didn’t do it well. He didn’t let things like stereotypes of manliness affect his behavior. If he liked you, you knew it, and if he found you contemptible, you knew that too.

That’s why Eren’s confession had so surprised him, because he’d always thought that if Eren had liked him he would have made it as plain as he did his regard for everyone else.

He’d counted on that actually.

But now he was wondering whether he’d just been blind. Because sure, they’d fought an awful lot, but aside from their first few months as trainees, had Eren really made it clear that he hated Jean.

Okay, sure, he’s _said_ he hated Jean, but Jean knew that with people Eren really didn’t like he didn’t bother saying he hated them. He just gave them looks of deep loathing and threatened to re-kill their ancestors.

Eren had never mentioned a word about _his_ ancestors.

They’d been doing the exact same thing: covering up genuine feeling with desperate blows and insults. Something so elementary and juvenile that Jean had no excuses as to why he hadn’t seen through it. He wished he had, of course. If he’d known about Eren’s interest he would have acted immediately...but he knew that wasn’t an excuse. He should have confessed. He had let his fear of rejection drown out everything else, and because of that he had no one but himself to blame for all the wasted time.

But at least now things were clear, out in the open, and he wasn’t going to waste a second.

He drew in a shaky breath as Eren began to undo the buckle on Jean’s belt. He was aroused--painfully so given how constricting his pants were on his poor erection. And he was worried because he had no doubts whatsoever that he would come soon after Eren began touching him. Hell, even when it came to his own hand, Jean never lasted long when he was thinking of Eren. He didn’t want to be seen as a wimp with no stamina, but it was probably something he’d just have to swallow down and accept because already his heart was pounding fit to burst.

_Calm down_ he intoned with an edge of panic. _You’ve known him for years. This isn’t such a big deal._

He wondered when he’d become as bad a liar as Eren was…

With a sound of dragging leather, Eren pulled Jean’s belt from its loops, having successfully navigated the buckle, and dropped the belt to the floor.

And then, when Eren showed signs of faltering, Jean took his hand firmly and guided it back to the front of his pants. Gathering his courage, he forced himself to take a page out of Eren’s book and speak clearly about what he desired.

“I want all of you,” Jean whispered, forcing him to at least look in the general vicinity of Eren’s face even if he couldn’t force himself to meet his eyes. “So if...if you want this too. Please don’t hesitate…”

And then he did look at Eren’s eyes, just to check, and then he was glad he did, because what he saw took his breath away. Because Jean recognized that fierceness in Eren’s eyes. It appeared when Eren wanted something very much and he was prepared to do anything to get it.

The boy’s trembling stopped, and when he grabbed hold of Jean’s fly, it was with a strong hold.

“Yes,” Eren breathed, raising his other hand to grip Jean by the waist to steady him. His fingers flipped the button near Jean’s crotch open and then in a much louder and fiercer voice repeated, “Yes, damn it, yes to all of it.”

Jean didn’t have a chance to appreciate the elation flooding his chest because he was distracted by Eren’s fingers attacking his own shirt.

Jean made a sound like a mentally ill llama as Eren snapped his shirt open and shrugged it off of his shoulders, revealing a beautiful expanse of tan muscled flesh.

“Here,” the boy grunted, folding the shirt perfunctorily and placing it behind Jean.

Jean eyed it in confusion. “What are you…”

But Eren was already pushing him back, cradling his head gently before laying the back of it down on his just-removed shirt which was now functioning as a pillow of sorts.

“Does that hurt?” Eren asked, “Because if it does we’ll forget about all this and wait for a different time to…”

He let himself trail off, biting his lip as he did so. Jeans was only confused for one more moment and then it hit him. He’d completely forgotten in the last few minutes that he’d gotten a moronic head wound. But now he paid attention to it, analyzing the damage. He could feel a light throbbing but other than that he was fine. More than fine. He was hyped up and incredibly turned on, and he doubted he had any blood left to bleed out of his head considering it was all currently being used to pump up his erection.

“I’m fine,” Jean answered hurriedly, needing to reassure Eren before the boy could even think about stopping, “totally fine. I’m—“

Eren laughed and leaned over, dragging his teeth over Jean’s jaw. “A horny idiot,” Eren finished, pressing a brief kiss to Jean’s lips. It was funny because even though Jean could have sworn all Eren had touched were his lips, Jean distinctly felt the kiss in his groin. Bodies were weird, he decided, pulling Eren down on top of him.

“You should not wear shirts more often,” Jean suggested, splaying his hands out across Eren’s back.

“Hmm…” Eren mumbled, raking Jean’s hair off his face. “I won’t if you won’t.”

Jean thought this was pretty fair as far as these things went. He’d already decided not to wear a shirt tomorrow if that meant Eren would do the same. It would be worth it, even if he had to run laps for uniform violation. In fact, he and Eren would probably _both_ have to run laps, and then he’d get to see a breathless, sweaty _and_ shirtless Eren. He was liking this plan more and more. But he’d think about it more later. Right then he had to figure out why Eren had started breathing more heavily.

He came back to reality and found that it was because he’d started unconsciously rocking beneath Eren, the thigh he’d pushed between Eren’s legs creating wonderful friction against his clothed erection.

“Shit…” Eren gasped, his forehead thunking down on Jean’s chest, “You bastard…” He had handfuls of Jean’s shirt in his hands and his breathing was starting to sound like a steam engine.

Jean shuddered at the heat pressing into his thigh and increased the rocking motion letting his hand slide down Eren’s back to grip his ass and pull Eren more securely against him. He had done it for Eren’s sake, to give the boy more pleasure (because those hot little moans he was letting out certainly weren’t those of pain) but Eren’s ass, he discovered, was one of life’s greatest treasures, and that’s when he let out a moan loud enough to drown out Eren’s.

“Eren!” He gasped, bucking up into the boy and gripping the boy’s ass so tightly it looked like he was trying to pinch off a handful, “Eren, you… _shit_ …your body is…”

Eren gasped and then pushed himself off of Jean without warning. Jean felt the empty space between them keenly, and his hands automatically reached up to pull him back. Eren caught the hands in his own and pulled them to his chest where Jean could feel the boy’s hammering heart.

“Sorry,” Eren breathed, sounding completely winded, “I couldn’t… It’s just… if I kept going then I would’ve…you know…and I want this to last, and…” The boy was blushing profoundly and it was easily the most adorable thing Jean had ever seen. Jean realized he must have smiled because Eren got defensive then and it must have been because he thought Jean was mocking him. “It’s not my fault, okay? I’ve never done this before, and I know it’s pathetic that I can’t last, but—“

Jean shot up and plugged Eren’s mouth with a kiss, pulling him close and stopping the rest of the boy’s defense with only his lips and tongue. He opened his mouth to Eren, encouraging the boy to enter by teasing him with little flicks of his tongue. It didn’t take much. Eren deepened the kiss quickly, attacking him messily with his passion, and holding Jean’s face tightly as he did so.

_More_ Jean begged, curling his fingers in Eren’s hair and tugging at it to inflame the boy. It seemed to work because Eren lunged forward, knocking jean back, and sending them sprawling across the floor as they rolled over and under each other, all the while scrambling to cover each other’s skin as much as possible.

Jean knew he was becoming absolutely filthy but he couldn’t have given less of a shit if he tried. He was having enough difficulty trying to remember how to breathe while Eren bit and sucked and did god knows what else to his mouth, but then Eren’s hands added themselves to the mix and Jean lost it.

“Can I—wanna touch you, Jean, can I—“

“Yes!” Jean gasped, thrusting up into Eren’s hand as the boy’s fingers hovered over his crouch. “Please, yes, god, hurry.”

They let out simultaneous gasps as Eren’s hands connected with the heat of Jean’s erection, and then Jean let out a moan that would have been heard by anyone else down in the basement had they been present.

“ _Fuck_ , Eren,” Jean hissed as Eren snaked his hand into Jean’s pants’ opening so that the only thing between him and the skin of Eren’s palm was his flimsy layer of underwear.

Eren let out an answering moan and then attached his mouth to the skin of Jean’s neck, sucking hard. “Wanna mark you,” he growled, his voice dropping low and sexy. The sound was enough to leave Jean twitching in Eren’s hand.

“Where ever you want,” Jean promised, his breathing a mess, “Only please, _please_ Eren, I need—“

He let out a moan that was almost a scream as Eren yanked Jean’s underwear down and roughly grasped his bare erection.

Jean’s mouth was open, and in his mind he was screaming obscenities, but he was so overwhelmed that the only thing that actually came out of his mind was a long keening moan.

Eren’s hand tightened around Jean, and he let out a gasp that sounded like it was part sob as he called out Jean’s name like a prayer.

Jean’s hands were tugging mercilessly at Eren’s hair as he fought to stay grounded to something, _anything_. And if Eren noticed, he didn’t seem to mind, because more of the desperate half sobs were leaving his mouth as he began to pull at Jean’s length, smearing the liquid of the leaking tip and gasping into Jean’s neck where his face was buried.

To say Jean was overwhelmed was an understatement that overlooked the fact that he felt like he was about to faint, explode, or do both. But even though he couldn’t imagine breathing, let alone speaking, he still forced his hands to move, removing one from Eren’s hair and pushing it down between their bodies to struggle with Eren’s belt. But it was too hard to do with one hand, and he was so flustered from Eren’s motions to even figure out his right from his left.

“Eren,” He cried out weakly, giving the belt an ineffectual tug. “Make it go away.”

Eren’s hand stopped moving, and he began to shake. Jean panicked, thinking he was having a seizure or something, but then Eren raised his head and Jean realized the boy was laughing so hard he looked like he was about to burst a vesssel in his face. “Make it go away,” Eren wheezed between laughs, “I swear to god, Jean…”

It took Jean all of 0.2 seconds to become immeasurably offended. He shoved Eren off of him so hard the boy went crashing onto his back.

“It’s not that funny, douchenut,” he snarled, landing atop the boy. But Eren was still laughing, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Jean managed to get even more enraged upon seeing them.

“Fine!” he shouted, “Don’t help! See what I care!”

And then he attacked Eren’s belt with the sort of viciousness he wanted to apply to Eren himself. He might or might not have broken the buckle as he snapped the belt off—he didn’t know, he hadn’t put enough effort into caring either way. The belt buckle hit the floor with a clang, but by that time Jean was already back on Erwin, his mouth sucking bruising kisses onto Eren’s chest as he fumbled with the button on Eren’s pants. Needless to say, Eren had stopped laughing. In fact, he was moaning pretty hard at this point.

Jean took hold of the waist of Eren’s pants with both hands and gave them a vicious tug. Eren’s harness, which had been hanging by his waist since Eren had shrugged off his shirt, came down with his pants. Jean pulled the whole ensemble entirely off and then tossed the lump of material and straps somewhere over this shoulder where they wouldn’t get in the way.

“Still think it’s funny Mr. I-can’t-even-breathe-cuz-jean-is-too-fucking-hot-with-me?” Jean snarled, wrapping his arms around Eren’s legs before yanking the now naked boy toward him. “Do you, you gorgeous fucker?”

Without waiting for an answer, jean lowered his head between Eren’s legs, and, after giving Eren just one second to realize what he was about to do, pulled the boy’s length into his mouth and took him in as deep as he would go.

Jean had learned, a couple years back during some changing room talk, that apparently a girl could get rid of her gag reflex by repeatedly brushing the back of her throat with her toothbrush as she brushed her teeth. Jean hadn’t liked the boys who’d been enthusiastically discussing it at the time, but he had set out to find out if it was true. Because at that point Jean had already realized his feelings for a certain green eyes Titan shifter, and he had thought that even if there was only a teeny tiny possibility that they would get together, he would make sure Eren had a good reason to stay, and he proposed to do that by enabling himself to be the best blowjob giver ever. Something he was finally trying out for the first time.

He’d been rather nervous about the whole thing, but maybe two seconds in he realized he probably shouldn’t have been, because going by the sounds Eren was making alone, he was having a pretty good time.

“HOLY SHITTING COCKTARD!” Eren shouted, nearly bleeding from his eyeballs, “You fucking talented little bastard shitter! When the _shit_ did you learn to— _FUCK!_ _Jean!”_

Jean was pretty pleased with these results, and he looked up through Eren’s legs to see what kind of physical effect he was having on the boy.

Eren was flushed all the way from his cheeks down to his navel. There were red marks on his thighs from Jean’s ultra-tight grip on his legs, and purpling marks on his chest where Jean had left his trail of violent kisses. Eren’s eyes were flashing so brightly that the green looked electric and his lips were a deep red swollen mess. He had limp strands of hair plastered to his face with sweat and the rest was standing up at crazy angles from all the abuse Levi had done to it with his hands. To top it all off there were brown smudges everywhere that Eren had picked up from the filthy floor. Jean could express it all in a single word: glorious.

“Fucking stud,” Jean muttered, pulling Eren’s now glistening erection from his mouth in order to admire it from up close. As he watched a pale droplet of liquid beaded at the tip. It was a beautiful specimen, nicer even than Jean had expected even though he’d done plenty of fantasizing about the thing in the last several years.

“ _Jean_ ,” Eren moaned again, reaching his arms up to pull the boy on top of him, but Jean impatiently brushed the hands aside. “Oh no,” he growled, giving the boy’s erection one long smooth tug from base to tip. “I’m riding this thing. Now.”

Eren didn’t even seem to have the breath left for a full-fledged moan. He settled for bucking his hips into the air and letting out a frustrated hiss. “But we don’t have—“

“It’s fine,” Jean snapped, assuming Eren was talking about Lube of some sort. He knew he could go without.

“But—“

“Shut up, Eren, or you’re not coming tonight.”

Eren shut up.

Jean realized he liked seeing Eren’s obedience, but decided that was something to explore for another time when he was slightly less desperate. Instead he leaned forward and pushed three of his fingers into Eren’s mouth.

“Soak ‘em, Jaeger,” Jean directed as Eren’s mouth automatically closed around the digits. Eren let out a lustful hum and did as he was asked. Jean was pretty sure he could’ve asked Eren for anything at that moment, and the boy would have complied.

After a few seconds of this, Jean figured it was good enough. He was already shivering uncontrollably.

“Okay,” he grunted, withdrawing his fingers and settling back on Eren’s stomach. “This is already embarrassing as hell, but if you want to watch, you can, all right? Just no commentary or I swear I’ll dig myself a hole, bury myself in it, and die.”

Eren’s eyes were wide as he nodded breathlessly. Jean looked at the boy’s face for one moment, gathering resolve, before he leaned forward and held up his weight with one of his hands pressed against Eren’s chest for support. Then, with the other, he reached beneath him and inserted one of the wet fingers into his hole.

He let out a muted grunt at the intrusion but pushed it all the way in, forcing himself to relax as he’d done in the past. It was harder to completely let go when he was this hyped up and he had Eren’s eyes boring holes into him, but he did the best he could. Closing his eyes and taking breaths that were as even as he could manage them. He slipped in another finger. He was aware that he was going a lot faster than usual, but he was too impatient at the thought of finally having the real thing.

His ass play had only started a few months ago, but it had been born when he realized that conventional jerking off methods weren’t leaving him satisfied. Because when he pictured Eren taking him he wasn’t being filled. So he’d started doing it himself, starting out with one and then eventually working himself up to four. He hadn’t thought this skill would come in handy because he’d never thought he’d be where he was with the boy in front of him, but now he was finding himself thankful for his perverted ways.

Eren’s hands found him then, and the boy was murmuring things to him. Things Jean was a little too distracted to hear, but he caught words like “stunning,” and “Perfect” and “God.”

But it was only after Jean had inserted the third finger into himself that Eren put in a real effort to make himself heard. “Does that feel good?” Eren asked, rubbing soothing circles into Jean’s back.

“Not really,” Jean answered truthfully, “Not yet anyway, since I’m rushing and not really trying to—“

“Teach me,” Eren said reaching up all the way and cradling Jean’s face in his hands. “I want to know how to make it feel good for you.”

Jean stopped and looked at Eren who was staring back at him with that overwhelming amount of passionate feeling the boy was known for. Jean wondered when that look had become the definition of perfection in his eyes.

“You sure?” Jean asked, blushing into his shoulder. “It might be dirty…”

Eren let out a soft laugh and gestured toward his general dirt covered body. Jean looked at the dark smudges and had to agree. Point taken.

Jean eased his fingers out of himself and went to take Eren’s hand, but Eren gently pushed his hand away. “Turn around,” the boy directed, brushing his hands lightly over Jean’s thighs.

Jean bit his lip fighting the urge to confess his feelings again (which would be utterly pointless, not to mention embarrassing as hell) and turned around. Eren had drawn his knees up to create something for Jean to lean on, and Jean couldn’t help feeling touched (in a manly way) about Eren’s thoughtfulness.

“Relax, okay?” Eren said, gently kneading Jean’s lower back. “You just tell me if I’m doing anything wrong. And if I hurt you, tell me right away, okay? And—“

“Just shut up and do something,” Jean mumbled into Eren’s knees, burying his burning face in them and trying and failing to pretend he wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest.

Eren let out a slow exhale and then moved his hands lower gently massaging his hips before moving the pads of his fingers to Jean’s ass. “Whatever exercises you’re doing are working,” Eren muttered, the appreciation clear in his voice.

Jean let out hoarse chuckle and pinched Eren’s thigh. “I do the same things you do, asshole.”

Eren began to make his circles tighter, working toward Jean’s entrance. Jean found himself holding his breath in anticipation, a low whine starting in his throat.

Eren’s breathing wasn’t the evenest either. “Well then you must have superior genetics, because your ass is _way_ nicer than mine.”

Jean was sure this opinion was biased in some way because Eren was dead wrong, but he didn’t feel like correcting him. “It must come from the horse part of my ancestry,” He muttered, pressing a kiss to Eren’s left knee.

Eren’s hands paused and then they wrapped themselves very tightly around Jean’s waist.

“You…you made a horse joke…I’m going to…I didn’t think you could get any more…I can die happy now!”

The exuberance in Eren’s voice was clearly over the top but didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a douche.

“Marry me!” Eren cried.

“You’re overreacting,” Jean pointed out.

“You’re such a douche, Jean,” Eren pointed out back.

Jean had a strange “I told you so” moment.

“I thought I was a horse.” He said in response.

“When’s our wedding?” Eren asked, refusing to get off target.

“How bout the 4th of NEVER?” Jean answered, terrified of the very thought.

“I take it back. You’re not a douche,” Eren amended, “You’re a mega ultra douche.”

“Shut up and screw me you procrastinating bastard,” Jean grumbled, sliding down a little further in an undisguised effort to give the other boy better access.

“Who’s procrastinating?” Eren protested, bringing his hands back to jean, only this time things were different, because his fingers went right to Jean’s entrance, and they were soaking wet.

Eren massaged Jean’s opening, comparatively sanely while Jean lost his mind. He clutched at Eren’s knees desperately and after several long seconds of this, resorted to begging.

“Put them in,” he hissed, “Put them in you shit bastard or I’ll come all over your face.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Eren asked, letting the occasional teasing tip of his finger slide into Jean only to draw it out again, “Because if so, it’s an entirely ineffective one.”

“Damn you to the deepest pits of hell!” Jean shouted, unable to push back on Eren’s fingers because of the secure hold the boy had on his hips with his other hand.

“Just as long as you’re there with me,” Eren muttered, pushing his fingers back into his mouth and moaning.

“ _Eren_!” Jean moaned, not bothering to disguise his desperation. “Eren _please!”_

Jean couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he was sure he was smirking. “Well since you asked so nicely…” Eren said, taking over the role of the douche, before sliding two of his freshly slicked fingers back into Jean.

\--

_Eren:_

 

By the sounds Jean let out then, anyone would have guessed that he was a cheap French prostitute, because he sounded _obscene_.

Eren found himself sweating and blinking a lot because the room seemed a whole hell of a lot hotter all of a sudden.

_Look at this gorgeous damn stallion_ , he thought, for the first time realizing that Jean’s horse status was a plus, _How do perfect beings like him even exist?_

“Put it in, putitin— _shit_ , just put it in!” Jean begged, shoving back against Eren’s fingers as he cried out in pleasure. The boy was practically impaling himself on Eren’s fingers, the walls of muscle inside of him squeezing the life out of Eren as the slick wet sounds filled the air.

Eren had never had sex before, but he knew that what he was experiencing right now was a lot hotter than your garden variety sex, and it was all because of Jean. The boy was so beautiful, especially with his neck thrown back like that and his hips undulating like a damn python. He was such a feast to take in that Eren felt guilty, needing to do more for the boy in order to deserve at least some of what he was being allowed to see.

_There’s a spot_ , Eren recalled, forcing himself to concentrate. Reiner had told him about it after Eren had asked the older boy in a very awkward and stilted manner about gay sex. Reiner, being the senior gay in the dorms, was the first one Eren had thought of to turn to (the last, of course, would have been Levi, who, though undeniably gay going by the many years he’d been off doing the commander, was still the touchiest and least approachable human being on earth in Eren’s opinion.)

Eren tried his best to remember what the blonde had told him. _On the front wall. It’ll feel a little different than the rest of the skin._

It had seemed easy enough to Eren when he’d been listening, but with his fingers in Jean’s body it was a little different. Everything was so tight and burning hot that Eren was finding it hard to simply keep moving, never mind find a spot somewhere inside there, but he knew he had to persevere or Reiner would definitely hand him an award for “Worst boyfriend of the year.” Last year the winner had been Ymir even though, one, she wasn’t a boy, and two, she’d pointed out that Christa, being a girl, didn’t even have a prostate. It hadn’t mattered to Reiner. So Eren knew he had to either find Jean’s prostate, or die trying.

Carefully, he swiveled his fingers inside of Jean and stroked up Jean’s front wall searching for differences. Jean wasn’t making this easy what with all his gorgeous noises and desperate motions, but it wasn’t as if Eren was going to yell at him for that.

Eren hooked his fingers slightly and began to methodically search, going for the blind yet thorough approach. It was when he’d gotten to a spot a few inches up in the boy when Jean let out a sharp cry and screamed Eren’s name like it was going to win him everlasting fame and blowjobs. (At least he’d be right about the second one, Eren thought.)

“That feel good?” Eren asked, feeling excitement curl in his abdomen.

“If you dare fucking stop I’m going to punch a hole in your head the size of the Colossal Titan’s anus,” Jean snarled, shoving himself violently back onto Eren’s fingers.

Eren didn’t bother to point out that Titans don’t have anuses, and instead took Jean’s words as an encouraging “yes.”

Burning the location of Jean’s prostate into his mind, Eren continued to push in and out of the other boy, adding a third finger to the mix after Jean threatened to skewer him with the nearby broom if he delayed any longer. But this addition didn’t please Jean for long, and after several more moments, Jean yanked himself out of Eren’s grip and slid from the boy’s fingers with an extended and deeply affected groan.

Eren wasn’t very happy about the separation either. “Get that gorgeous piece of art back up here,” Eren snapped over the ragged sound of his breathing as his eyes remained glued to Jean’s ass.

“Shut up,” Jean huffed breathlessly as he shoved Eren’s legs back down to the floor, and spat several times into his hand.

“I’m serious, Jean,” Eren warned, “It that ass isn’t back in my lap in three seconds I’m going to taste you so thoroughly you’ll be begging me to— _oh shit Jean what the crap haven’t you ever heard of a warning?”_ Eren gasped as Jean’s warm slick hand grabbed tight hold of his erection and pumped it thoroughly several times.

Jean had to hold Eren down by the shoulders to prevent him from jackknifing off the floor. “Calm the hell down,” he growled, climbing on top of Eren and situating himself over the boy’s organ, “If I miss, and it’s your fault, I’m taking a crap over your gear.

“Try it, and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit on a hard surface ever again,” Eren growled back.

It was amazing, he realized, that they had somehow managed to essentially retain their old relationship despite having added this new component. Having always loved the freedom his relationship had always given him, he could only approve of the similarities.

“Promises, promises,” Jean sniffed and then plunged down on top of Eren, once again without warning.

He pushed down on Eren’s erection in one smooth motion, sheathing the boy completely inside of him. Eren hadn’t been prepared for the feeling of being inside the boy despite the myriad times he’d imagined it. So too Jean seemed pretty overwhelmed himself, and the two let out simultaneous gasps that were quickly followed by deep tortured moans.

_“Jean_ ,” Eren croaked, scrambling to find one of the boy’s hands as he held onto the boy for dear life.

Jean found his searching hand and squeezed it tightly. “So…full…” he gasped, biting down on his lip and sucking in sharp quick breaths.

“Do you want me to—“

“No!” Jean shouted, cutting off Eren’s offer. “It’s good. It’s everything I want. Just give me a second.”

Eren nodded, determined to give Jean all the time in the world if he needed it, even though the effort to keep his hips down and still was taking every last bit of concentration and resolve he possessed.

But Jean didn’t give himself a long time to adjust, because after a couple of overwhelming moments, where Jean brushed a couple of tears out of his eyes (that he assured Eren were not tears of pain, and that he should “mind his own shitty business, goddamn it! It’s just kind of powerful, that’s all.”) he then began to move, rising up slowly on Eren before sliding back down, allowing himself to adjust to the feeling of finally having Eren inside of him before picking up the pace.

Eren could understand Jean’s need to adjust because he too was trying to figure out just how he was expected to do this without his soul leaving his body.

Eren slid his hands down to Jean’s hips and brushed his thumbs over the boy’s hip bones. “Jean?” he said, not really knowing what he was asking. Maybe if all this was all right, or if Jean wanted all this as much as he did. But whatever the question was, Jean still answered it with a nod.

“Move,” he commanded, sliding his hand down Eren’s arm and gripping it tightly. “And I’m warning you, if you treat me like a delicate flower I’m going to slice off your dick and hang it up as a warning for others.”

Eren slid his hands down to the tops of Jeans thighs, gripping the muscled flesh there with an appreciative sound before saying with a snort, “I think you’ve kicked my ass enough times to convince even an idiot like me that you’re no flower.”

Jean closed his eyes, a smile fighting the forced scowl on his face. “Such an idiot,” he agreed.

Tightening his grip, Eren began to rock beneath Jean, starting slow and shallow, allowing them both to grow used to the overwhelming feeling.

Jean groaned and let his head fall back, exposing his slightly colored neck to the other boy. “More,” he hissed, trying to take control of the pacing, “Give me more.”

“Impatient bastard,” Eren grunted, digging his nails into the Jean’s thighs and beginning to thrust up into him, tight heat curling up in his lower abdomen and tightening there into something beyond distracting.

Jean let out a tortured moan and began to raise his own hips, using Eren’s body to support his motions. “Harder,” he begged, gripping any part of Eren’s body he could lay his hands on.

Eren just wanted Jean’s body to engulf him. He wanted his hands everywhere, and as he buried himself in the boy’s body, he relished in the heat and weight of the boy, knowing that there was no other construction that would have felt better against him than this boy who appeared to mold himself to him, matching every one of his actions and returning each one of his breaths as they slammed into and against each other, a violent meeting that couldn’t have been more perfect considering the two idiots involved.

“More, please, god, _Eren_ ,” Jean cried, his fingers digging so deeply into Eren’s skin that he was sure to wake up covered in bruises, but Eren didn’t care, his entire mind was consumed by his desire to fulfill Jean’s words, and it was what caused him to jerk up, the rush pushing Jean over backward, reversing their positions.

Eren caught Jean’s head before it could hit the floor and laid it down gently even as he was already using his new found downward angle to push into Jean even more deeply than he had been before.

“Like that?” Eren grunted, thrusting into Jean with a sharp snap of his hips.

The only response he received was a strangled moan, and Eren decided to take that as positive feedback.

He continued to push into the boy, his mouth spilling out words that didn’t even make sense, but all had to do with Jean and the complete wreck he was making of both Eren’s mind and body.

After briefly squeezing Jean’s hand, Eren let it go and instead wrapped his fingers firmly around Jean’s erection from where it was trapped between their stomachs.

“Gorgeous,” Eren gasped as he tugged at Jean, drinking in the way Jean threw his head back and cried out.

Eren twisted his hand around the head of Jean’s erection, trying to remember what he himself liked as well as learning on the spot what Jean preferred based on the boy’s reactions.

Jean gasped and arched off of the floor. “Wait it’s...too much. I’m going to--”

“Go ahead,” Eren grunted, forcing his own orgasm back as he continued to both thrust into Jean and pleasure him with his hand, “You’re so beautiful like this.”

Jean gritted his teeth together tightly and turned his face away as his breath grew more and more ragged.

“No,” Eren groaned, trying not to think about how tight and hot Jean was around him, “I want to see you. I need to see you.”

He reached down, without pausing his motions, and gripped Jean’s chin, reestablishing their eye contact as he twisted his face back around. “Let me...see your face…”

It was getting so hard for him to speak. The heat in Eren’s body was desperately trying to escape him, and the pressure to keep it all in was making his jaw ache.

“Jean,” he groaned as the rhythm they’d established broke apart as each were thrown quickly down the path to orgasm.

_Wait_! Eren commanded himself _, Wait for him. He has to go first. You have to hold it back_.

But god was it hard, because not even Eren’s overly active imagination could compare to the sexiness that was the actual body of Jean Kirschtein.

“Eren!” Jean cried out reaching for Eren’s face and grabbing a fistful of his hair, “Eren I--”

Eren kissed him, pulling him up into his body, and holding him tight as continued to rock into him. The emotions that were fueling his motions were still confusing and overwhelming to him, but he was done questioning them. He knew that Jean was the one he wanted, and that was enough. Eren knew he would no doubt mess up a lot, and they’d both still drive each other up the wall, but all that didn’t matter because at the end of the day he would always reach for this set of arms--somewhere he fit so easily and well.

He hadn’t been kissing Jean long when the boy pushed back against his shoulders, “Eren,” he said, face only a couple of inches away, “Please tell me that even if this whole sex thing becomes a part of our routine that I’m still allowed to beat the shit out of you afterward.”

Eren looked at the genuine concern on Jean’s face and couldn’t help but break into a full smile. “Only when I deserve it,” he replied.

“Oh, so all the time, then?” Jean, the stupid douchebutt horseface, noted cheekily.

Eren gripped Jean’s hips and pushed himself into the boy so deeply that Jean’s entire body trembled. “Sure,” Eren said in a husky voice, his head falling onto Jean’s shoulder as everything became too much. “Whenever you want.”

Jean let out a muffled cry as he buried his face in Eren’s neck and let the feelings take over. Eren still had a hold on the boy’s erection, and now he pumped it with purpose, feeling Jean approaching the end and wanting to give it to him more than anything.

“Come for me, Jean,” Eren encouraged softly as he picked up the pace once more, driving his love and desire into the other boy reverently. “Let go.”

Jean whimpered and bit down on Eren’s shoulder as he began to shake, high gasping moans the only sounds leaving him now.

The deepening of Jean’s nails in Eren’s skin was the last warning Eren got before Jean juddered, and then he came, ejaculating into Eren’s hand with more power than the boy expected as he cried out Eren’s name again and again, calling it like he would say it forever--like it would always be the next thing on his tongue.

Eren was enthralled with the creature in his arms--this stunning person who had allowed him to see him like this--to see him coming apart and together all at the same time. To see the way sweat beaded on his forehead and his breaths punched out of him and the cries rang from his throat. This was the gift the boy had given him. This was the gift that was Jean.

Just as the last of his orgasm was leaving him, Jean wrapped his arms in a tight vise around Eren and hissed. “I love you--I really love you, and I don’t care how that makes me sound because I goddamn fucking love you.”

If Jean had been expecting a decent answer or even a reciprocation, he would have been disappointed, because the combination of being inside Jean, the impending presence of his orgasm, and the boy’s words were enough to leave Eren completely incapable of speech, and so the only sounds that left him were a series of sharp cries as he leaned into Jean, and pushed into him with everything he had left.

His cries were so loud and so heartfelt that he didn’t hear the muffled shout of “In here!,” and neither did Jean, But a moment later, when the door exploded inward with the tremendous strength of Mikasa’s booted foot, both boy’s took notice.

But there was a problem, because it was already too late.

As none other than Captain Levi of the 104th squad stepped in through the shattered entrance behind Mikasa, Eren felt his orgasm like an unstoppable force.

So when he felt a strong grip on his shoulder, and he was yanked back, he wanted to cry out a warning, but he was too overwhelmed, and anyway, it was too late, because then he was ejaculating outside of Jean’s body and onto the pristine material that belonged to Levi’s pants.

The captain, no doubt, had a thousand thoughts running through his head as he witnessed this happening, some of which might have been profound regret at both his last action as well as his having been born in the first place, but the only emotion that Eren could undoubtedly pinpoint on the man’s face was clear and profound horror

“You…” he gasped, grey eyes rounded out with silenced screams, “You just…”

Jean, though nearly as naked and vulnerable as Eren (they’d never completely gotten his shirt off) proved his worth by instinctively pulling the other boy back, and closer into his space. But Levi’s hand shot out, snagging a tight hold on the boy’s upper arm, and put an end to all escape attempts.

Eren could do nothing but watch as the horror on Levi’s face quickly transformed into pure and unmuted rage.

“Eren!” Mikasa cried, “I heard you scream and I thought--I didn’t mean to--I was worried and…”

Eren knew he couldn’t blame her. He loved his sister dearly and could appreciate the fact that she’d been the first one to come and find him (he’d forgotten to tell her about his storage room cleaning assignment) but he still couldn’t help feeling a deep and powerful horror over the fact that _this_ was how he was going to die.

Not wanting the last image of his life to be Levi’s jizzed on leg, he turned his face to Jean, who, surprisingly, was handling all this pretty well.

“ _Worth it,”_ the boy mouthed, giving Eren one last bubble of happiness. He supposed it wasn’t that bad, dying with the spunk of the boy he loved coating his stomach, and, he thought, mind going back to Reiner, at least he wouldn’t be getting the worst boyfriend award since his waiting to ejaculate was the thing that had led to his imminent death.

Finally, Eren turned to face his fate, looking back up into Levi’s face.

The man was proving every ounce of his elite soldier status in the way that he was controlling himself, and not screaming at the top of his lungs as he might ordinarily have done.

Then, with ire that was terrifying to behold, Levi parted his lips, and through gritted teeth said, “I’m going to give you a ten second head start, and then I’m going to come after you with absolutely everything I have.”

It wasn’t a chance, not really, so why did Eren feel a vague glimmering of hope?

He didn’t know, but less than half a second later, just as Levi released his arm, he heard Jean cry out his name just as a pair of pants hit his chest. As Eren caught them, Jean grabbed his hand and dragged him to his feet.

“Come on!” the boy shouted, having grabbed nothing for himself as they flew around Mikasa and out the door.

With only his shirt tails flapping in the wind that their running created, Jean was truly a sight to behold, and his naked ass as it whipped down the hall was a stunning vision of perfection.

“We’ll never make it!” Eren cried as they pounded down the rest of the hallway and skittered around the corner, bounding up the steps they’d descended together not too long ago.

“Oh yes we will!” Jean snapped, giving Eren’s hand a tug as they breathlessly shot up the rest of the stairs, “Everybody answers to somebody, and Levi is no exception.”

Eren’s eyes widened as the meaning behind Jean’s words crystallized in his mind. His genius lover was, of course, referring to the singular power that Commander Erwin Smith held over the surly and murderous captain.

All they had to do was get to the man’s office and put themselves at his mercy. A relatively simple plan, but…

Eren squeezed Jean’s hand as they reached the landing. He could already hear voices in the distance. “Think we can make it there in ten seconds?”

Jean nudged him with his hip and kept going, dragging Eren after him as if their linked hands made them a single entity. “You will if you ever want to kiss me again,” he reasoned.

“Or hit you,” Eren added.

“Does that even need to be said?” Jean asked.

Eren bit his lip and hid his smile in his shoulder, knowing he had to be absolutely insane to be feeling the bubbling warmth that seemed so much louder than his terror. But at least he wasn’t the only crazy one, because there was Jean, pulling him along, and his smile was just as wide.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh. I really don't know how to write short smut for the life of me. The scenes just run away from me and then I just sit here drowning in porn. (which, granted, is not a bad life, but it is a time consuming one.) Anyway, i needed to get these stupid boys out of my system. They're one of those ships that make you want to beat your head against the wall while sobbing hysterically (something I've done plenty of while writing this.) I hope you enjoyed. I'm afraid I really didn't edit this piece because I'm a lazy tired poop who just wants to go to bed, so if there are big glaring errors feel free to point them out. As always, I love you readers more than I can say. 
> 
> (ps. mini epilogue here. Levi ended up giving them a lot more than a 10 second headstart. The moment they left the room he sank into a sobbing horror filled depression all caused by Eren's spunk. Erwin later went down to collect him, and gave him a bath. Thankfully after some of his favorite therapy (abusing the recruits) levi started to feel like himself again, and eren and jean were allowed to live.)


End file.
